hold your tongue
by Cerulean Musings
Summary: Sweet Pea has a type and he's going to let Wynn know it whether she likes it or not.


_**Hold Your Tongue**_

"Tate, come here, I want to show you something."

Wynn blew a curly strand of hair away from her face as she glanced over her shoulder, an eyebrow raised. "Who d'you think you're talking to?" She demanded, pulling on the lever of a soda machine.

"You," Sweet Pea replied where he sat at the bar, swiveling from side to side in his chair. His knees knocked against the support beams underneath the bar counter. She briefly wondered why he chose to sit there when he practically had to fold himself in half just to fit.

Wynn laughed, turning back around. "No you're not. Try again." When the layer of foam reached the top of the glass in her hand, she pushed the lever back up, leveled the cup, and then carried it around the bar. She served it to the waiting customer with a smile and went back around the bar, wiping her hands on her apron as she went.

"_Tate."_

Wynn eyed Sweet Pea. His arms crossed over his chest and his heavy eyebrows were lowered, highlighting the downturn to his mouth. She almost laughed; Tall Dork and Handsome pouting was pure gold. She'd bask in this moment forever.

"_Yeeees?_" She put an overly sweet smile on her face, propping her chin up on her laced fingers. His eyes narrowed and she lifted her eyebrows, waiting. It'd be wise if he cracked first, she could out-wait him for as long as she needed to. Her resolve was a force to be reckoned with, even if it was mostly used to keep herself going day after day. "If you're just going to stare at me, let me know so I can get back to my job." She grabbed a nearby cloth and began to wipe down the counter.

Sweet Pea closed his eyes in a long, slow blink and pushed a breath out of his nose. "Just look at this." He removed a folded piece of paper and shoved it in her face.

Wynn took her time wiping down the rest of the counter, wringing out the rag in the sink, folded it up, and set it aside. She took the paper from him and let her eyes scan across the page, humming when she spotted his name written at the top. "Huh. I'm never going to know your real name, am I?"

Sweet Pea grunted. "Not if I can help it."

"Is it really any worse than _Sweet Pea_?" She asked, eyeing him up and down.

Scowling, he jabbed at the paper with his finger. "Geeze, Tate, look. I got a B on the math test."

Lifting her eyes, she spotted the circled letter grade the top. "Well look at that, you did. D'you want me to hang it from the chiller?" She jerked her thumb in the direction of the kitchen behind her. "Put your smarts on display."

"Very funny." Sweet Pea snatched the paper back.

Wynn held up her hands. "Hey, you worked hard for that. I'm not dissin' you. You must have a good tutor." She smirked at the roll of his eyes, quickly shifting her attention to the door when the bell jingled. She lifted her hand in a wave at two patrons that came inside. They waved back and made a beeline for a booth in the back corner. "This is where you say _thank you_," she prompted when Sweet Pea didn't say anything.

"I'll thank you after I see Josie."

"Why, does she have you on some sort of strict regimen or something?" Wynn chuckled as she moved to refill the straw carousel on the counter. One look at Sweet Pea's sudden sullen face made her pause. "Wait, _does_ she?" She still wasn't sure how Josie and Sweet Pea got together and she didn't want to know the details but even this was a bitch much for her. "Man, Jojo's really got you on the hook."

"It's not like that."

"Sure it's not." She broke open a package of straws and lifted the carousel. "I'm just sayin', I've known Jojo since we were babies. She's either making you jump through hoops to make you better or to keep you away. And if her _dad_ has any say in it—"

Sweet Pea scoffed. "He doesn't know anything about it. That's the point. That's what makes it fun."

_That's what keeps Josie in control_. But Wynn bit her lip and kept her mouth shut. Who was she to ruin what someone else had? At least he was happy; at least what she guessed was happiness since he seemed to have two moods: angry and eternally perturbed. Besides, what did she care? He could be with whomever he wanted.

"As long as you don't mind being a dirty little secret."

"Doesn't bother me. Besides, I like my women—"

She nailed him with a look. "If you say _chocolate_, I'm gonna slap you."

His lips slowly unfurled, pulling back to finally take form of a cocky smile. She paused beneath his stare, eyebrows crinkling, feeling unusually self-conscious and unsettled as, for a second, his eyes flickered up and down, from her head to her toes and back. "I like them _feisty._" He threw a wink her way and she stood, stunned, stuck, trying to figure out how to react when he leaned over the counter and grabbed a biscotti stick.

"H-hey! You can't just take that!"

He gave a nonchalant shrug. "Put it on my tab." Then, with a fluff of his Serpent jacket lapels, he swung around, slid off the stool, and stalked out of the diner.

Wynn ran her tongue against her bottom lip as she shook her head, chuckling. When she noticed the tightened grip she had on the straws in her hand, she slapped them down and went to the back, making a beeline for the chiller.


End file.
